Unexpected Package
by CrimsonDayDream
Summary: Sanji Black-Leg has moved to the other side of town to attend the college of his dreams. His past isn't no mystery to anyone, but what happens when the past comes back to haunt him? And what happens when his new friend Zoro is dragged into it all? Warning: yaoi
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters.**

**Warning: Rushness; Grammar; OOCness; Yaoi; Lemon; swearing; repetitiveness (I'm a repetitive person) and anything you notice that isn't on this list but is on this list.**

Hey everyone...*sweet smile*...I know I have loads of other stories to complete but...I honestly don't know where I should put all of new stories and chapters that are cluttering my desktop...so...here's a new story...  
Hmm...has to be rated M for language, I think, I only just read the ratings again and I've forgotten already. Well, whatever!

**Chapter 1: Wrong Address**

* * *

A figure beneath a feather filled duvet shuffled; groaning as green hair poked out from the blanket, proceeding to kick it off of him. He shivered from the sudden contact of the cold air on his skin as he groggily dragged himself to the front door, his piercing green eyes glared daggers at it, hoping it would seep through the door and at the intruder who had dared to interrupt his sleep.

He had planned that he would sleep in today, since today was finally his day off from his part time job and his studies. He had been so busy recently with assessments every night that he hadn't gotten his usual sleep. Thankfully he had handed it last night via email which meant he could sleep...and yet the banging on the door had rudely woken him from much needed slumber.

"Yes, yes. I'm coming..." He mumbled sleepily, brushing his hand through his pale green hair, pushing away any lose bangs from his eyes - he mentally added to get a trim soon.  
He swiped up the keys that lay on the table beside the door, and pushed it into the keyhole with a light clang. He turned it to the right, all the way around until he heard a click, where he then released the key and moved his hand to the door handle; pushing it down and pulling the door open, his head poking out to see who it was.

"Hello?" He asked, his right brow lifting in question as he stared at the man in black with two large packages.  
"Got some packages for this address." The man replied.

The green haired male nodded, taking the boxes from the man one by one, putting it on the floor by the door.  
"What's the name?" The delivery man asked.  
"Zoro Roronoa" He answered automatically.  
"Could you sign here please?"  
"Sure" Zoro took the clip board and pen from the man.  
"On the crosses please"

Zoro nodded as the pen scribbled away; ink gliding smoothly onto the paper.  
Once he had signed it with his signature, he handed it back to the delivery man and bid him goodbye, slowly closing the door with a soft click. He lifted up the large packages once again and put them into the front room, staring at them in curiosity as his mind racked itself to the past week or so. He was certain that he hadn't ordered any packages recently, so it couldn't be for him...so the only other person it could be for, was his guardian, Dracule Mihawk. Just what could he have ordered?

He trudged back to his room - his mind still wandering to possible ideas of what could be in the box - grabbing his mobile from his bedside table, he scrolled his finger over the screen and clicked a few times; raising the phone to his ear to hear the dialling tone. As he waited for an answer, he walked back to the front room, switched on the television, lowering the sound slightly, before grabbing the other remote and flicking through channels.

_"Dracule Mihawk speaking"_  
"It's me, you've got two large packages here, what did you order?"  
_"Have I now? How big?" _  
"Large."  
_"Description?"_  
"...brown...large...cube and rectangle..."  
_"...Well that's strange...I didn't order anything" _  
"Huh? But it's addressed to here"  
_"Is there a name?"_

Zoro look at the boxes, bending over slightly to read the label clearer.

"No name"  
_"Well then, open it" _

Zoro went to protest about opening it, considering it was neither of theirs, but Mihawk had hanged up on him. He sighed, putting his phone down. He, once again, stared at the package, an on going conflict in his mind.  
He sighed once more before moving his feet to the kitchen to get the scissors and back again, coming to the conclusion that he should just open it, after all, it was addressed to their home so it technically wasn't wrong of him, right?

He cut off the tape and opened the first rectangular package. He stared at the black tube mat; he wondered what the hell it was. He lifted it up, turning it in his hands as he looked for a label - reading it in his mind, his eyes widened in surprise to what he now held. They were cutlery knifes.

He carefully placed it back into the box and grabbed the ordering paper beneath it; reading it to find that it was from the local catering college. He moved the box away and began to open the next one, curiousity kicking in again to discover what was in the other box. He looked inside, a blue box facing him. He picked it up and opened it; they were black shoes for a male. He looked more into the box to see clothes, he slowly began to go through them. They were chef clothes, obviously for a starting college student. He grabbed the paper, flicking through it. Noting that the clothes were small.

He slowly read it all, taking his time. He noticed that it had been a quick delivery only having been ordered and dispatched yesterday, so this must have meant that this person needed it soon. He continued to read it, hoping there was a way to contact this poor - but probably stupid - bloke.

Dispatch Number. No.  
Order number. No.  
Reference Number. No.  
Customer Name. No.  
Customer contact. No

There was nothing for him to do then. Wait a moment.  
Zoro frowned as he re-read it once more, mentally slapping himself for being an idiot. The contact details were right there and he had just skimmed over it like it was nothing.

The owner was named Sanji Black-leg.  
'_Weird name_' Zoro thought, musing over it.

He grabbed his phone once more and texted the number. He wasn't particularly in the mood to have a random conversation with someone on the phone, he never liked speaking on those devices anyway.

**_'Hello, is this Sanji Black-leg?_**

**_Did you per chance order Chef uniform and equipment for the local All Blue college catering course?  
If so, it has arrived at my address as I think you may have typed your address wrong.  
Yours, Zoro Roronoa.'_  
**  
He nodded, that seemed fine and polite. Now, he just needed a reply. It wasn't like he was in a rush to get rid of it, he had no use for it where as this Sanji person would be the main person panicking for it.

Zoro looked at the stuff once more, realising that maybe he should re-pack them all and re-cello tape the boxes…yeah that probably would be best…


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters.**

**Warning: Rushness; Grammar; OOCness; Yaoi; Lemon; swearing; repetitiveness (I'm a repetitive person) and anything you notice that isn't on this list but is on this list.**

**Chapter 2: Moving out**

* * *

"Shitty old man! Do you have another shit box for me?!"  
A young blond called from his room, a few boxes already packed and stacked neatly to aside, ready to be moved to another place. The 'shitty old man' hobbled into the room.  
"Here you go eggplant, did you want me to drive you to your new apartment?" The old man asked.

"Thanks and no I'll be fine, it's only a few bus stops away. I can travel back and forth." The blonde chuckled, waving his hand to and fro in his own way to indicate one place and another.  
Zeff frowned his mind thinking about the distance. "It's on the other side of town, an hours drive...a bus is two hours…and isn't it two buses?"

Sanji stared at Zeff blankly, not seeing his point. "So?"  
Zeff then glanced at all the boxes, the amount of boxes the stupid brat had would be at least more then three trips back and forth.  
Zeff lifted up a completed box, "I'll drop you off, no complaints."

His voice was stern and so, Sanji huffed, he guessed being babied a little more wasn't too bad, he was moving out and moving to another district. A sudden new adventure for him.  
A place where he knew nothing of, the houses and roads all completely different to the place he was so use to. A nervous feeling began to rise in his chest, making it feel heavy, he was feeling a little scared, he had gotten use to relying on Zeff, although he had been alone before, this felt a little different. He shook his head, he couldn't back out on his decision now, it was practically too late.

Sanji finished packing and had filled the car with his boxes, as well as a few bags filled with groceries, courtesy of Zeff, he had literally thrown it at the blonde telling him they had plenty of food. He climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Zeff to get in as he buckled himself in securely.

They drove in silence for a while, letting the radio fill the air. Sanji looked out the window, watching the people, buildings and cars go by, letting the image of his home engrave in his mind since it would be a long time until he would see it again. The car suddenly stopped, and Sanji turned his head to see why; it was the traffic lights. Zeff took this moment to speak up, to say what was on his mind.

"Little egg plant, are you sure you still want to go? How about a dorm room instead of your own flat?" Zeff suggested, he was worried that Sanji would be living on his own.  
"Old man, there won't be any dorm rooms now but that doesn't matter, I've already paid the deposit for the flat and the price isn't too bad per month either."

"Eggplant, are you really ready for this?" Zeff tried again.  
"Yes, shitty old man, it's a start and I know if I need help I can still come to you, right?"  
Zeff smiled slightly before replying. "Of course."

They were back in silence. A comfortable silence. Neither felt so worried now, especially Zeff, he now knew that this stubborn brat would come to him for help if needed. It's scary for a parent to watch their child leave home, leave the nest and be alone in this dark and dangerous world. He knew Sanji had been alone before and he didn't want that for him again but if this was what he wanted, supporting him and helping him was all he could do. He knew Sanji was a strong kid, taught especially by him for self defence, but he still couldn't help but worry for the brat.

Zeff pulled up, parking in the residence car park of Sanji's building where his new home would be. His new start.  
Zeff turned off the engine, leaning back as he looked around him, the area didn't look so bad. Sanji unclipped himself and exited the car, soon followed by Zeff and began to unpack the boxes from the car.

"Need my help right now eggplant?"

Sanji chuckled slightly and nodded as he began to climb the stairs to his apartment. Zeff right behind him, they climbed the stairs together and walked to his door. Sanji grabbed the key from his pocket; having had it since the day he got the apartment and opened it, letting the door swing open. The flat wasn't small, it was the right size for one person possibly two, but either way it was perfect.

"Not bad eggplant" Zeff whistled. "Looks pretty nice"  
Sanji grinned. "Of course, I'm not dumb, shitty geezer!"

They continued to fill the apartment with the boxes until Zeff left, leaving Sanji alone to unpack his things into the late evening.

The flat - to Sanji - was beginning to feel like a home, especially now that it looked like it was lived in. He had a small television placed on the floor by a socket and a bean bag not too far from it. His kitchen was finished, all his tools and equipment away, neat and tidy. The cupboards and fridge were filled with the groceries as well.

The bathroom was filled too and a futon was placed in his bedroom ready for him tonight, at the moment, he didn't have a bed.  
The only things he had left was a bookshelf and a few selves that would need some DIY ability, his books and DVDs, but that could be left for another time. He ruffled his hair tiredly and made his way to his kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. Letting the cool soothing liquid glide down his throat.

Giving himself a deserved rest. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, remembering it had died early that morning. Not that anything important or anyone would contact him but he liked to have his phone on and by him, just in case that ever happened. He scrambled over to a smaller box and dug through it grabbing a charger and quickly plugging it in and pressing the button to turn it on.

The phone slowly turned on, the bright light shining onto Sanji's face. He swiped at his phone and typed in his password watching as the phone set it self up and to Sanji's surprise, it buzzed. He looked at the number, not recognising it. Sanji clicked open the text message, reading it in his mind.

Surprise washed over his face, so this person had his packages. He had totally forgotten about them, well not entirely but he didn't think they would arrive so soon and at a wrong address as well!

He quickly replied back.

**_'This is Sanji Black-leg. I am so sorry that I caused you trouble, where exactly are my things?'_**

Just as Sanji sent a reply he was awarded with another text from the same person with an all too familiar address.  
**_  
'Is it possible for me to come get it now?'_** He texted back.

His phoned buzzed once more, and he was up on his feet, and out of his flat, leaving the door open. He walked to the door beside his, it was the last door and by the looks of it, quite a big apartment as he could see a covered window. He knocked on the door gently.

Sanji waited a moment, not in a rush for the door to open but when it did, he was quite surprised. It was a tanned man with damp green hair in only a pair of sweatpants.

"I'm so sorry" Sanji apologised adverting his eyes, "I've caused you quite a disturbance today."

Zoro stared at Sanji, looking him over, he was handsome, tall, and slim. He also noted that he was blonde.  
'_A foreigner_?' He thought '_No, he's fluent…'_  
"It's fine, I got out of my bath ten minutes ago, the real question is, how did you get here so quick?" Zoro asked, comfortably leaning against the railing.

"I live right next to you, I've just moved in today. So with my order, I must have typed the wrong number in by accident."  
Zoro leaned forward, peering just out of the frame to see that the door to the apartment beside his was open.  
"Do you have proof to say you are who you say you are?"

Sanji frowned and Zoro noticed it so, he quickly explained himself.  
"Sorry its just, I signed for the boxes and if you're not the person it's actually for, it could cause me a lot of trouble, you understand right?"

Sanji nodded and smiled. "It's alright, just wait here I'll go find it. Sanji scurried back into his flat, a few crashes could be heard and a few mumbled swears from Sanji before he rushed back out with his passport. Holding it out to Zoro.

Zoro took the passport and opened it. Looking at the name and picture, he handed it back to him and went to get the boxes. He gave one to Sanji and then carried one himself.

"I'll help you" Zoro said walking behind Sanji with the box, closing the door after him. Sanji nodded, accepting the help although it felt a little unnecessary considering he was only next door to him, but he wouldn't protest to a helpful hand. It could also be a good time to build a nice little friendship with a neighbour since he didn't know anyone around here and connections tend to mean everything.

Zoro gently placed the box beside the other where Sanji had placed it in the far corner of the room by the balcony door.

"Wow, you really weren't kidding when you said you only just moved in, your room's a little bare..."

"Should have seen it earlier, there was literally nothing, but I feel content with a few things here." Sanji pointed to the bean bag, "Did you want to take a seat? Sorry that's all I've really got at the moment."

Zoro looked at it. "Uh, sure, thanks" He slumped down beside the beanbag and leaned back into it, awkwardly looking around the room. He sort of felt bad if he sat on it since it was the only seat in the room so leaning on it slightly would suffice.

He listened as Sanji rattled around in the kitchen before he poked his head out of the kitchen.  
"Have you eaten?"  
"No?" Zoro answered unsurely.  
Sanji grinned, Zoro would now be his very first guest in his new place to try his brilliant cooking.

Zoro looked around the room once more, should he stay seated or should he do something? Why did he stay, well he didn't want to seem rude and suddenly leave. He got up from his seat and travelled to the kitchen, he leaned by the door and watched Sanji. He couldn't help but be mesmerised by the blondes movements, they were swift and elegant, it was like he moved on instinct without a thought for what he had to do.  
He couldn't help a smile creep up on his face as he watched the blonde, he had never seen someone in a kitchen like this, with a childlike enjoyment on their face. It was quite relaxing.

Sanji finished up with the stir fried noodles and rice and placed them on the plate professionally. Humming to himself as he picked up the two plates. He turned around and jumped slightly, his eyes in shock.

"You were watching?" Sanji asked Zoro, blinking at him.  
"Yeah, you seem to really love cooking, I could tell by your actions..."  
Sanji grinned, "I can't see myself doing anything else." He handed the plate to Zoro and they travelled into the living room to eat.

Zoro placed a spoonful into his mouth, a series of flavours melted onto his tongue. He moaned into the taste.  
"For a beginner at that cooking college, your cooking is amazing!" Zoro practically shouted, stuffing the food into his mouth, it had been a long time since he had such delicious home cooked meal like this, the food he ever had was always takeaway or store brought food, sometimes he didn't even have a meal.

Sanji laughed. "I'm no beginner, my old man taught be since I was ten and I grew up working in his restaurant."  
"So he's a chef? Is that why you want to be a chef too?"  
Sanji shook his head. "No, I wanted to become one way before I met that shitty geezer." Zoro noticed the sad distant look flickering in his eyes.  
"Your old man...Isn't actually your old man?" Zoro asked quite puzzled.  
"Nah, he's an adoptive parent. I use to read these cook books when I was little and try making it for myself and my real parents, I loved the happiness my food gave them and I remember wanting to be better and expanding that happiness to more people, but then they died and I met Zeff who took me in..."

Zoro left it at that, the expression on Sanji's face telling him it was best to stop, that he was delving too much into the blondes past. Don't get him wrong, he wanted to know but only if he was willing to tell him. Maybe not now, but he hoped that some day the blonde could say.

Sanji sighed, Zoro was frowning, he could tell the man wanted to know more but was resisting the urge to ask. Should Sanji really tell him? They had only met, but then again, nearly everyone knew…  
"Did you want to know more? I warn you, it's a long story..."  
Zoro looked up at him, reading his eyes before nodding.  
"I've got plenty of time..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters.**

**Warning: Rushness; Grammar; OOCness; Yaoi; Lemon; swearing; repetitiveness (I'm a repetitive person) and anything you notice that isn't on this list but is on this list.**

I suck at French. I had some help from some who studied French. xD BUT! ...if there's anyone excellent at French or is fluent in French and you see a mistake, please tell me and I'll happily fix it. Thank you!

**Chapter 3**

* * *

A blonde haired boy who looked no older than ten, wandered the streets, rubbing his arms with his hands, trying to warm himself up from the cold. His skin was pale and his nose was bright red from the cold.  
He snuffled and sneezed, pulling his sleeves down and over his hands, in an attempt to keep them warm as the sun begun to set; it was getting late, and he was making his way back to the place he had been sleeping each night, he just needed to get there before any bad guys would come and see him. The boy ducked into a familiar small alley and crouched deep into a corner. Shifting the cardboard to cover his small body.

He had gotten use to life on the streets for the past few days - or weeks, he couldn't remember - since his parents had died. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he remembered...

_A young blonde boy stood balanced on a chair of the small kitchen of their hotel room, standing beside his father who watched the young boy stir the pot happily. The father couldn't help but smile, his son was so enthusiastic about cooking despite his young age and of course, he encouraged his sons small dream._

_Standing just behind the two of them, stood an over protective mother who watched with a smile on her face that promised that if her son was to get hurt she would not be happy in the slightest. The father could feel the intense stare on his back and couldn't help but sweat slightly. He took the spoon from his son and smiled, lifting him up from the chair and down to the floor._

_He told his son that he would take over and that he should go with his mother to get changed. They didn't want him spilling anything on his brand new clothes. Reluctantly, the young boy obeyed and ran to their parents bedroom, opening the closet and rummaging through the clothes for his own._

_A knock sounded in the hotel room. The father walked to the door. He could see just the top of the man's head. He opened the door and with one step, the man pushed forward, his full force against the father's chest._

_The boy and the mother heard the slamming from the bedroom. She grabbed her son and pushed him into the closet, telling him to stay in there and not to come out no matter what. She grabbed some clothes and threw them over the boy to make him look like a pile of clothes. She smiled and told him how much his parents loved him before slowly closing the doors._

_The boy looked through the gaps of the closet, it somewhat obstructed his vision but he could still see his mother walk away and towards the hall, opening the door. He heard his mother gasp before she was sent back into the room. The man looked into the room and smiled, he gestured with his gun to the father to go into the room. He forced him to lie on the bed and then tied the mother to a chair._

_The intruder was on top of the father, pinning him down, his knees on either side of his chest._  
_The father and mother spoke, asking him what he wanted but the intruder merely tilted his head. He didn't understand a single one of their words._  
_The man held a gun to the fathers eye socket and smiled. He could feel the metal of the gun barrel press hard into his eye socket. It pushed his head against the mattress of the bed, his chin held high. And then it was gone. Instead, he watched the swift descent of a hammer towards his face._

_He closed his eyes. His jaw clamped shut. He felt a surge of strength rush through him and he began bucking and writhing for his life. He waited, his head rolling side to side, dizzy and sick. His breath exploded, saliva and blood spraying into the air and at the man who now held his life in his hands._  
_The hitting stopped for a few seconds. Nothing happened. He could hear muffled screams of his wife a few metres from him._

_He wondered for a split second about his son. His son was safe, the man knew naught of the boy._

_The man shifted above the father, and angled his hammer to the mans upper body. The blows came over and over once more, splitting, breaking and cracking, splintering and shattering bones and flesh. He stored up every scream that wanted to rip up his throat._

_Then it stopped._

_Tears streamed down his face, sobs choked in his throat. His whole body trembled. He slowly opened his eyes and watched at the man climbed off of him, he could hear the footsteps walking over to his wife._

_He tried to let out a yell, to tell the man to continue with him, anything but his wife but only blood emitted from his mouth. He coughed and writhed violently but the energy was leaving his body fast._

_The boy had covered his mouth to stop any sounds from coming out, the tears streaming from his face as he watched his parents die. He couldn't take his eyes off of the man who had repeatedly brought a hammer down upon his father and had now turned to his mother, to do that exact same thing._

_Tears blurred his eyes and he blinked to let them move. Unlike his father, his mother screamed._  
_The killer moved to and fro between his mother and father, prolonging their death and their pain._

_He climbed upon the father once more. He closed his eyes, preparing for another onslaught of hits. He wanted to hear sirens, ones that were bringing police officers to his door._  
_The blows started again, hard, fast and brutal. He looked into the eyes of his torturer, seeing the flicker of amusement in the mans eyes and now —from somewhere closed and locked inside him, unleashed only now — he raged._  
_His face flooded with anger, his jaw moving, his mouth wide, his lips forming every word he wanted to roar. But nothing came out. The message was silent. All he could do now, was escape and take himself away._

_The young boy had finally closed his eyes and ducked his head in-between his knees. He could no longer hear his mothers muffled screams and instead an eerie silence filled the tense air. He listened to the heavy footsteps of the large man walk around the room. The boy shuffled as far back as he could into the closet, scared that the man would open the closet and find him, that he would do horrible things to him too. He sat quietly, smothering his cries with his hands, begging that the man would leave. He was scared, so scared._

_'S'il vous plait! S'il vous plait allez loin!' The boy cried in this mind._

_His ears piqued as he heard footsteps coming towards him; to the closet. He opened his eyes, his heart beat increasing rapidly with each slow step until it stopped, right outside of the cupboard. The boy felt his heart drop, this was the moment, the moment the killer would find him, would kill him the same way his parents had been killed. No, he didn't want that!_

_The closet door opened slowly, and the boy screamed. Watching the men in blue look down at him in surprise. He blinked at the red and blue flashing lights that blinded him slightly, proceeding to kick at the arms reaching out to him. They were saying something to him, almost in a soothing whisper but he couldn't understand them._

_"Non! Ne me blessé pas! Que quelqu'un m'aide!" The boy screamed. "Mère! Père!"_  
_He screamed for his parents although knowing for well they were gone from this world, they had left him all alone in a place he knew nothing about and could not understand._

_He watched as the men in blue held up the palms of their hands. Another held up a picture of a smily face, he stopped kicking and screaming and looked at the pictures, which then slowly changed to that of a police car._

_"Voiture de police..." He whispered slowly recognising the image, he tried to look at his parents bodies but the police blocked his view, nodding their head as they held out their hands to the boy, comparing their large hands to the small boys as he grabbed theirs. A police man quickly covered the boy in his large coat, blocking him from seeing his parents bodies as they guided him out of the room. They had gathered the boy had witnessed it all from the closet, behind the panels of the door, slightly blocking the scene they couldn't imagine the boy witnessing._

_The officers took the young boy out of the room and away from the crime scene, not letting him look back at all. The man began talking to a taller man with silver hair smoking away with a cigar in his mouth. He pushed the coat off of him and handed it back to the police officer, he couldn't understand what they were saying._

_"Smoker Sir, we found the son hiding in the closet. He must have witnessed the whole event and seems quite traumatised."_  
_Smoker turned around from another officer, handing back the passport of the young boy and glanced down at the young child before kneeling down to his level and smiling, as to not scare him. Smoker thought back to the passports, remembering that their nationality had been French. He thanked the heavens he had studied foreign languages for a moment like this - well not exactly like this, he never ever wanted to find a child at a murder scene._

_"Bonjour, Mon nom est fumeur et vous?" Smoker said to the boy._  
_"Sanji..." The boy replied, his face lighting up slightly as he realised the man was saying things he could understand._  
_"Comment allez-vous, Sanji?" Smoker asked. The officers around him frowned, they really had no idea what the captain was saying to the poor boy, they just hoped he wasn't scaring him too much._  
_"J'ai peur .." Tears brimmed once more at Sanji's eyes._

_Smoker patted him gently on the head to calm him down. He didn't know why he had even asked how the boy was, he should have known he would be scared, but he didn't think, he had only thought about trying to make small talk._  
_"Quel âge avez-vous, Sanji?"_  
_"Je viens d'avoir dix ans" Sanji replied, holding up ten fingers to the officer._

_Smoker frowned. So young and yet he was all alone whilst witnessing a murder of his own family in an unknown place. He would have to take him back to the office and ask him to re-live it again. Smoker really didn't want to do that, not to the poor kid._

_"Tashigi, look after Sanji for a while whilst I go in and see if they've found anything to find our suspect"_  
_Tashigi nodded, raising her hand to her head and saluting him. "Yes sir!"_

_Sanji watched as Smoker moved to walk away from him. He reached out, grabbing his shirt in this tiny fist, holding it tightly, stopping smoker in his steps._  
_"S'il vous plaît ne me laissez pas! Ne me laissez pas seul!"_  
_Sanji didn't want him to leave, to leave him all alone once more, he didn't want to be alone, the image of his parents flashing in his mind once more._  
_Smoker looked down at the blonde boy, tears threatening to fall from his blue eyes and he frowned, knowing exactly what the blonde was thinking in his mind right now._

_He kneeled down once more, a hand resting on the boys shoulder._  
_"Je ne vais pas vous quitter, j'ai juste besoin de faire quelque chose et je reviens tout de suite." Smoker explained to the boy that he just needed to do something, and that he would be right back._  
_"Promis?" Promise?_  
_"Promis." Promise._

_Sanji released smoker, watching him leave before turning to look at the women that had been called Tashigi._  
_She waved, smiling._  
_"Bonjour Sanji." She pointed at herself. "Tashigi" and then pointed at her police badge._  
_Sanji nodded, understanding that she was trying to tell him she was a police officer and she meant no harm._

_She pulled out a pen and pad, and drew an image on it, showing it to Sanji who stared at it, an image of an ice-cream. He nodded at her. She held out her hand, and he grabbed it, walking with her down to the hotel lounge._

_"Could we have a large chocolate sundae and a small ice-cream cone please?" Tashigi asked the worker at the counter._  
_"Yes miss" The woman said to Tashigi. Tashigi waited beside Sanji whilst the women made the order. Once the order was done, she grabbed them and ushered Sanji to a table, handing him the large sundae, his eyes widening in surprise. He couldn't finish it all by himself._

_He shakily grabbed the spoon, and began to eat the ice-cream. Tashigi handed him her pad and pen. He grabbed them and began to draw whatever he wanted as he ate the ice-cream. At first he didn't know what to draw, no images came to his mind, only the images of the cruelty he had seen before._

_The pen scribbled as he drew, his hand occasionally reaching out for the spoon and a mouthful of ice-cream. Tashigi glanced at the boys drawings. It was telling the story of what had happened. She wanted to take the pen and paper away from Sanji, to stop him from re-living it, but a hand had stopped her. Smoker had come down from the crime scene and had found them at the table. He sat quietly by Tashigi and watched the boy draw._

_Sanji's last image was of him in that dark closet, crying. A few words scribbled beside it._  
_'J'avais peur'._

_Tears slid down Sanji's face once more._

_"Vous êtes courageux, Sanji." (You're brave, Sanji) Smoker whispered, taking the pad and pen from him._  
_Sanji didn't reply, he sucked in his breath and tried to hold in his tears as he wiped away the already fallen ones. Yes, he had to be brave. His parents would have wanted that._  
_He had to be a big boy now, and big boys didn't cry._

_"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tashigi whispered to Smoker as she carried the young sleeping boy in her arms. Sanji had fallen asleep in the car journey down to the police station after he had half finished the ice-cream, Tashigi and Smoker had started eating it half way just to help him._  
_Tashigi had tried to make Sanji more comfortable with them so she had made him laugh constantly by wiping ice-cream on Smokers face. She even drew funny faces of Smoker causing Sanji to burst into laughter. Eventually the crime scene had been checked and cleaned and Smoker thought it was a good time for them to leave before they started moving the bodies. After all, Sanji had already seen enough._

_Smoker flicked through the drawings, cringing slightly at the images the young boy had seen. "He's trying to be brave, Tashigi..." He paused in his steps, frowning at a picture._  
_Tashigi frowned. "But he's only ten...that kind of pain..." She trailed off, looking down at the boy._

_"I know, we'll see if he has any relatives in France and send him to them because right now, he needs his family."_

_Smoker and Tashigi worked non stop on this case through the night as Sanji slept on the couch covered in Smokers coat. Smoker had filled in a full report on the crime scene, the murder and was now looking at the pictures as well as Sanji's drawings. Translating the boys descriptions of the large man into their language so he could give it to the police stations artist later._

_He frowned, puffing his cigar._  
_He would glance from one image to the drawings and then glance at the forensics notes._

_"No forced entry..." He glanced to Sanji's drawing it was of his father by the door. "Maybe he knocked on the door...and held a gun to the father?" Smoker questioned himself, he eyed the writing by the picture. "His father was pushed?" He questioned once more reading the words "slam" in french._

_He glanced to the drawing of Sanji's mother pushing Sanji into the closet._  
_"His mother had acted quickly, her first instinct was to protect her son..." He read the rough writing the boy had written. "..'Stay here and don't make a noise. We love you, Sanji'.."_  
_Smoker than stared intently at the drawing of the killer that Sanji described - as much as Smoker could translate - as 'large, fat and a long bowl cut.'_  
_"A large man with a stocky build. His face and haircut, resembles a look of a woman? A large scar extending from his left eye to the left corner of his mouth..."_

_Smoker sighed, jotting his thoughts down._

_"Smoker!"_  
_"What?" He gruffly said, annoyed that he was being disturbed._  
_"I phoned and Sanji had no other relatives apart from his parents!"_  
_"What?" Smoker shouted, twirling around in his chair to face her, remembering that Sanji was asleep he hissed lowly. "You mean to say that this six year old boy is really truly alone?!"_  
_"Yes Smoker..." She whispered sadly._

_Smoker's mind flickered back to when Sanji had grabbed him, begging to not leave him alone. So that kid already knew he was all alone._  
_"What do we do?" Tashigi asked him, fear evident in her eyes._  
_"Whether he gets sent back to France or not, he will be sent to an orphanage..."_

_Hours went by, and the sun began to rise, people piled in to the police station and were quickly hushed by Tashigi. Smoker never looked up, his concentration focused on the pen that smoothly crossed the paper; word after word._

_Sanji sniffled awake, the large figure with silver hair in view._  
_Smoker._  
_He had wished yesterday had been a dream, just a horrible nightmare, and that his parents had still been alive and well…yet it had been true. It had been real, and it was a horrible feeling; the feeling of being alone._

_"Smoker..." Sanji whispered sadly._

_The owner of the name had been quick to respond as soon as he heard his name uttered by that small voice._

_"Vous êtes éveillé." (You're awake) Smoker equally whispered softly. Getting up from his seat and walking towards Sanji where he settled beside him. Now that Sanji was awake, it was best to tell him what was to happen now._

_"Sanji...puisque vous n'avez pas de parents vous devrez aller dans un orphelinat pour peut-être etre adopté..." He explained to the young boy, explaining that he would be sent to an orphanage and possibly be adopted, here or at his actual birth place._  
_"Non! Pas orphelinat ou d'adoption! Je refuse!" Sanji shouted at the top of his lungs, standing up suddenly to glare at Smoker._  
_"Ca va aller..." Smoker said calmly. Sanji turned on his heel and ran towards the bathrooms in the office, still wearing smokers jacket._

_They waited awhile for Sanji to come out, letting him calm down. Tashigi poked Smoker, telling him he could have been a little more gentle and subtle about it rather than blurting it out bluntly to the poor boy. Everything must be so sudden for him. No one could simply understand what he was going through right now._

_Smoker sighed, he entered the toilets, thinking that they had given Sanji enough time, but when he entered, there was no one there. Each toilet stall was open, and yet there was no blonde boy. No sniffling or sobs. Smoker carefully looked around the room, nothing seemed out of place...except the window. He glared running out of the toilets and out of the building, looking up and down both ends of the street. He saw no sign of the boy, he was long gone now, he rushed back into the building and told everyone that Sanji had escaped. Finding him was now everyones top priority._

_Many officers filed out of the building and into their cars. They were now all on patrol to find the young boy. No one could be mad at him, they just had to be understanding…except for Smoker, he was furious._

_Sanji ran as fast as his feet could take him, down through roads and ally ways, not stopping until he felt safe and far from the police station. He thought they were good guys, that they were going to protect him and help him, to find his parents killer and yet they were going to send him away to an unknown place. Smoker had befriended him, gained his trust, and yet now, he was sending him away._

_Sanji continued to run, never stopping because every time he tried, scary people would come up to him and try to take him away and if there wasn't scary people, their were blue officers searching in every nook and cranny just for him. He slowed down his pace as he came to a place with less people. He breathed heavily, a hand upon his chest, feeling his beating heart. What was he to do? He was all alone, no one to go to, no one to help him. He was young and admittedly foolish, but he didn't want to go with strangers, to live with them._

_He missed his Mother and Father. No one could replace them. He didn't need new parents, he didn't want new parents._

_His stomach growled, hinting that he was hungry. When was the last time he had eaten? Yes, that was yesterday, Tashigi had given him ice-cream but no, when was the last time he had proper food? Yesterday at lunch time, his parents had taken him to a restaurant, he had noodles. Was it miso? Yes maybe, he couldn't remember, he just knew it was nice._  
_Maybe he should get something to eat. Yet, he had no money, he knew he needed money to buy things and he had none, he couldn't work for it either. Who would hire a ten year old who didn't speak their language?_

_Sanji shivered, he was cold, so cold. Was he really going to die here? Die like this?_  
_He ducked into a near by ally and begun to dig his way through the bins, grabbing anything he could. Left over food, boxes of sticks that looked like smaller versions of what Smoker had and a fire maker, stuffing them all in a near by bag. He refused to die, he was going to live. He scooted more into the ally, and grabbed a box, sitting on it. Wrapping the large jacket around him, the only warmth he now had. He shuffled through the things he just picked up, and ate some of the food, not caring that it was in the trash. He was hungry._

_Hours went by, and Sanji sat still, listening to people as they walked by. In just those few hours, he had picked up a few words and sentences people said, trying to teach himself to understand the language._  
_"Thank you" Sanji whispered over and over, he had heard it earlier as someone had held open a door for another._  
_"I scared" Sanji whispered, having heard a young girl say it earlier to her sister._

_He grabbed the sticks from the bag, staring at them, he remembered his father had talked about them once. Now, what were they called again?_

_"Ci-gar-ret-tah? Cigar-rettah? Cigarettah" Sanji said repeatedly, it sounded funny but he was sure this was the correct word for them. He grabbed the lighter and one of the cigarettes and held them up, one in each hand. He put the cigarette in his mouth and attempted to light the lighter; hurting his thumb as he did. After a few attempts he eventually lit the cigarette and breathed in before coughing violently. He breathed heavily, picking the dropped cigarette up once more. He felt...warm? He took another taste holding it in before coughing it out. He breathed it in once more, but let the smoke out quicker. He continued this, feeling warmer with each time his lips touched the cigarette._

_Sanji put down the cigarette and stomped it out; snuggling into the jacket, he closed his eyes. Sleep beckoning him, he could hear the loving laughter of his parents and see the outline of himself being hugged by them._  
_'Mère, père ... Veuillez veiller sur moi...' (Mother, father...Please watch over me...)_

As Sanji came to an end in remembering, he paused in his step. Looking at the poster on the window. It was a picture of him, a drawn picture of him. He frowned at it, of course he would stand out whether there was a photo of him put up or not, it didn't even look like him anyway. He glared at it, pulling the hood of the jacket closer to his face. Photo or not people should find a ten year old blonde wandering the streets alone a little suspicious.

He looked up to the skies, and whispered into the wind.

'Are you watching me now?'


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters.**

**Warning: Rushness; Grammar; OOCness; Yaoi; Lemon; swearing; repetitiveness (I'm a repetitive person) and anything you notice that isn't on this list but is on this list.**

Sorry! I thought I posted this up XD  
Thank you to **Michikuni Mayu **for the help this chapter and last chapter for the French parts. So this chapter is for you! :)

**Reply to reviews **  
**lilcutieprincess: **Thank you for the review! :) Updates will be now and then due to lack of freedom. Ah, good bye Summer holiday :(

**Oneechan94: **Thank you for the review! :) The cute beginning actually happened to me which inspired this story since the packages I received had been chef stuff and I thought of Sanji. So, I then thought like, what if I was Zoro.  
Although, Zoro and Sanji's meeting was better. The guy who came to my doorstep was someone I thought of as a cute little brother...:(  
And the ending being cute? Hmm, I hope so too, i don't know the ending just yet.

**Chapter 4**

* * *

"Like, did you hear the news? The poor boy who lost his parents is still missing!"  
"Oh my goodness! Seriously? How could anyone not notice him?"  
"Beats me! I just hope he's safe..."  
"I bet he's terrified to wits end!"

Sanji sighed, he somewhat understood the conversation between the two girls just now, having only understood that it was about him. For the past few weeks - maybe months, he couldn't remember - since the death of his parents, he had studied (thrown away) children books and toys, learning the language that this country spoke.

He could speak it as much as a young boy could, occasionally he'd go back to french when he struggled, but as for speaking, hearing it was far more easier. He could understand most of peoples conversations now, not all of it though; just bits and bobs and their gestures.

He climbed over the fence and jumped down on to the other side, he had been running around his area ever since that day, this had been the best place. A lot of left over food would be put into the trash and he would be able to have it. It was delicious, better than anything he had practiced making before. He missed it, cooking back at home in his parents kitchen, reading all those cook books in the bookshelf and staring at the pages for hours. He tightly held his fists, silently telling himself it'll happen one day, that he'll be living the dream he has dreamt for a long time.

Sanji pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and smoking it perfectly. No little fits of coughing, he was use to it now. It warmed him and comforted him.

Unknown to Sanji, someone had been watching him the past few days. He had noticed the little boy running around and it had intrigued him, at first he thought maybe it was just a little kid trying to get home, but each day at this time, he would see him lurking in the shadows and thats when he realised, this kid was homeless. He, himself, had tried to be out of sight and leave food for the boy, acting as if it was thrown away.

But it wasn't enough, he wanted to help the boy more. Find his parents perhaps. He watched as the boy took out a cigarette. He frowned, well that was the first for him to see the boy smoke.

The boy leaned on the wall, and slid down it, crouching. He was now out of sight. The man sighed, he made up his mind. He left the table at the small cafe, crossing the street as he looked around him making sure no one was watching him and he then ducked into the ally as well.

"Aren't you a bit young to be smoking kid?"  
Sanji snapped his head up to see a rough looking blonde man standing above him, staring down at him. He had a blonde moustache with two blue ribbons tied at the end of it.  
"You do know those can kill you?" He asked again.  
Sanji frowned for a moment, 'You those kill you?' He thought. _'Il doit parler des cigarettes…'_  
He shook his head. "They warm me..." Sanji whispered, coughing slightly.

Zeff frowned. Warmth? What warmth? The coat gives more warmth than cigarettes.  
"I've seen you here the past few days..." Zeff asked the boy, leaning against the wall behind him. Sanji tilted his head slightly, his eyes flickering to the fence he had climbed over, he was analysing the situation. He was sure that he'd be able to get away, but then again, he shouldn't underestimate the stranger. There was at least a gap of two feet between him and the stranger, would that be enough?

Sanji looked back at the man, _'il a été me regarder?'_  
"So what? Leave me alone." Sanji growled to the stranger.  
Zeff held up his hands. "Woah, I'm not going to harm you. My name is Zeff, what about you?"  
"..." Sanji frowned. _'Il a dit son nom, il s'agit d'une présentation…'_  
"I'm Sanji"  
"Okay, Sanji, I've got a nice hot chocolate, a cake and a delicious sandwich in this bag" He gently put the bag down, and pushed it with his foot to the boy. "Go ahead, eat it."

Sanji narrowed his eyes at the bag._ 'Qu'est-ce que c'est?'_ He sniffed the air, smelling the sweet scent emitting from he bag. It was food.

Zeff watched the boy eye the bag suspiciously, hesitating to take it. Eventually Sanji took it, and begun to devour the food, savouring each bite, the flavours all bursting on his tongue.

Zeff chuckled, taking it that he had just earned the boy's trust, somewhat at least. He could see Sanji's eyes were still shifting to what would be his escape route.  
"Do you have a dream?" Zeff asked, smiling slightly. Every kid had a dream, surely the boy did too.  
Sanji nodded. "Dream? Yeah!" Sanji rummaged into his own bag, pulling out a cooking magazine. He grinned as he held the magazine up, showing a college and more pictures of students with chef attire on.  
"I dream to be a chef!"

Zeff smiled. "Tell me more"  
And so Sanji did. Zeff couldn't help but be amused as Sanji grinned, waving his hands as he told Zeff his dreams and why he dreamed it. Enjoying the happiness radiating from him.

"I know a place where you can practice to be an apprentice to an actual chef..." Zeff mumbled softly, cutting the blonde off from his talking.  
Sanji stopped speaking and paused thoughtfully, processing the man's sentence. He then looked gobsmacked at him. "Really?!" His eyes were shining brightly.  
Zeff nodded. "Come with me and I'll take you there and I promise I'll look after you."

Sanji eyed him again though, looking him up and down. He was being cautious.  
Zeff didn't let the boys obvious distrust go un noticed. He sighed.  
"Alright alright, walk a few steps behind me and if you feel like I'm dangerous, it gives you a chance to run. But, I promise you I'm telling you the truth."

_'Marcher derrière? Si il est dangereux, je peux courir? Il promet la vérité?'_

Sanji nodded to the older man and waited until he began to walk away before he too got up from where he sat, he looked back at the fence once more. It wasn't too late for him to escape but, what if he was telling the truth? He had promised after all….  
He turned away from his escape and began walking. Sanji noticed, that not even once did Zeff look back to check if he was there or not. He really was giving him the chance to run.

The walk wasn't long, it had only been a few blocks away and so, Zeff was pleased to announce that they were there. He heard the small footsteps stop just a few metres from him.  
"This, is the Baratie. My restaurant." Zeff said proudly, turning to smile down at the boy.  
"Wow! Yours?!" Sanji gasped, looking at the large fish shaped Restaurant. It was huge and grand, so he really was telling the truth! And even better, he himself owned the place.  
"Yeah, would be you be willing to work and stay here?" Zeff asked the boy who nodded all too eagerly.

"Let's go in, I'll introduce you to the entire Baratie Family." Zeff chuckled as Sanji ran towards the entrance. Thrusting the door open, the beautiful interior gazing right back at him. Sanji felt dirty in such a place, he looked down at his feet, fidgeting on the spot.  
Zeff patted him on shoulder. "This way."

He took Sanji through the restaurant, and into the kitchen where many people were in, calling and speaking to one another. They paused and greeted Zeff before looking at the smaller male beside their boss.

They all smiled and cooed at the kid, patting his head and ruffling his hair in greeting. Sanji smacked their hands and pouted but they all laughed at him.

Zeff ordered them back to doing what they had been previously doing before continuing to show Sanji around. He pointed at a door, mentioning that it leads to his employees rooms and then he took him upstairs to a living room, showing him his room and a room for Sanji.

Sanji couldn't explain the emotions that flowed through him. He felt so lucky, and so happy, this must all be a dream.  
From that day forth, Sanji would wake early in the morning and begin practicing cutting vegetables, just like Zeff had showed him. Sanji had learnt that Zeff was strict when it came to perfection. Everything had to be just right, or a kick to the head would occur, but Sanji didn't mind, the strict teaching helped him learn quickly.  
Zeff had also taken it upon himself to bring in a tutor to teach Sanji instead of sending him to school since after all, Sanji was just a kid he picked off the street. The tutor had then found out Sanji's language skill was lower than a normal ten year old which then opened up the truth that Sanji was French.

Zeff would always ask Sanji about himself, asking if there was anything else other than the fact he was French, but Sanji would never answer. So, Zeff would leave it alone.

After his tutor would leave, he'd help in the kitchen in the evenings by washing dishes.  
On the weekends, he'd study hard from early morning and late at night.

But, on a particular day. Sanji had finished with his tutor and had come down to the kitchen to help.

Zeff watched the sadness in Sanji's eyes as he watched a small family happily eating at a table. It was then that he knew what that look was; it was the look of wanting.  
Zeff couldn't do that, he couldn't be the parents Sanji had, nor could any of the other chefs. He had to do the right thing, he had to send the boy back to his family, after all, maybe he was a kid who had been kidnapped and his parents were devastatingly looking for him. They needed to know he was safe, they needed him back and he needed them.

Zeff stood by the phone, sighing as he picked it up and dialled a number. Everyone had grown attached to the lad, it would be hard to let him go.

Sanji danced as he helped clean the tables and floors of the restaurant now that all the customers had gone. He heard the door open quietly.  
"Sorry! We're-" Sanji stopped, his face paling at the familiar figure.

"Sanji, viens avec moi." Smoker said, speaking in french. Holding out his hand to Sanji, beckoning him to come with him.

"No! I can speak now and I like it here!" Sanji shouted, he turned to the kitchen door. "Zeff! Don't let them take me!"  
"He's the one that phoned me." Smoker stated, no longer speaking in Sanji's native tongue, as Zeff came out.

Sanji stared at Zeff in shook. He had phoned Smoker? He had given him to them? But he promised to look after him...  
"Menteur!" Sanji screamed at Zeff, "You said you'd take care of me!"  
"Kid, you need to go home. Your family must miss you."  
"Family? I won't replace them with more. If you want me to have a family, you and everyone else are my family!"  
Smoker frowned but spoke up, cutting into their conversation. "Zeff, do you remember hearing about a murder of two foreigners in their own hotel room?"  
Zeff nodded, "Yes, and their son was the only surviver." He widened his eyes, it hit him hard in the chest. "Wait, this is that little boy?"

Sanji frowned. _'Murder? Hotel room? Little boy?' _They were talking about that incident.  
Smoker nodded.  
"Shit" Zeff cursed.  
"Shit?" Sanji whispered, frowning at the word. That was new, and he didn't know what it meant.  
"He ran when he heard he would go to an orphanage and we've been looking for him since."  
Zeff looked at the boy and frowned. "I'll take him in. I'll fill in all the forms and everything. I've got the room, I've got the money and the kid wants to be here."

Smoker looked at Sanji, noting the confusion on his face. Obviously, there was still much more of the boy to learn. He nodded, "I'll come back with the paper work."  
He turned and left, leaving Sanji even more confused on what had been going on.

"Welcome home."  
Sanji blinked, before breaking out into a smile. He understood that completely, so what ever Zeff had been talking about with Smoker, meant he could stay here.

The next day, Smoker had come back round with papers for Zeff who had happily filled them in.  
"I don't want to change my last name!" Sanji shouted as he ran upstairs to the two of them.  
"Patty told me I have to take your last name and then I'll forget my name and my parents! I don't want that to happen!"  
Zeff smirked. "You're keeping your last name eggplant..." Sanji scowled, he hated that new name Zeff had give him now.  
"But I also decided to add mine to yours"  
Sanji frowned in confusion. "Sanji black red-leg?"  
Zeff shook his head. "Sanji..." He paused "Black-leg"

Sanji stood wide eyed, staring at the two grinning men. He got to keep his last name, but he also got part of Zeff's name?  
He grinned wildly at them before jumping up and down. "Génial! Thats so cool! My old name and new name mixed together!"

"Génial! C'est Génial!" Sanji cried happily, dancing around Smoker and Zeff. He couldn't describe how happy he was, and he was sure his parents were just as happy for him as well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters.**

**Warning: Rushness; Grammar; OOCness; Yaoi; Lemon; swearing; repetitiveness (I'm a repetitive person) and anything you notice that isn't on this list but is on this list.**

Sorry for such a late late chapter! I've been busy and haven't had time to concentrate on writing :( I've rewritten this chapter a good few times and hopefully this is fine. Enjoy!

**Reply to reviews **  
**Guest: **Well hello dear guest. Thank you for the review :) It has not become a forgotten story thankfully, but sadly, I've just been busy with university and applications and so.

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Zoro had listened intently to Sanji's story. He had listened to every word the blonde had spoken, from how his family had been murdered and to the end where he had been taken in and cared for by Zeff.  
It all seemed like it was a television drama with a story so exaggerated for viewer purposes, but Zoro knew it wasn't like that at all, it was the blondes true tragic story. No one would ever lie about something like that.  
But why did it sound somewhat familiar? It rang a tiny bell in that back of his mind but he was unable to remember exactly what and where he might have heard about it before.

Sanji had observed Zoro's reactions during his story. He had noticed how intrigued the green haired man had been and how his face remained as passive as it could but his eyes would widen in surprise anyway. He didn't mind telling Zoro, a man he just met, his life story. In fact, it was no secret at all, it had been a huge story back then, even now it still remained a huge story. It was one of the many reasons Zeff had home schooled him, journalists always wanted to talk to him, to know the true story of the foreign boy who's parents had been murdered right in front of his eyes. They had wanted details, what had happened, how he was coping, what he was going to do…anything they could get a good story from.

They never got a story from Sanji at all and he was thankful to Smoker and Zeff for that, but it never stopped journalists taking photos and writing stories from those photos. So, with Sanji's past, all someone had to do was search it on the internet and thousands of websites, photos, memes and videos would appear, you could go to your library and find all the news papers archived, you could just ask your parents or the old lady at the corner shop and they would remember hearing about the horrific tragedy.

Zoro's face softened for a moment, enough for Sanji to see the sadness in Zoro's eyes, almost as if he were pitying him for such a dreadful past but Sanji didn't mind, it was a stare he had long gotten use to from others who would recognise him as that boy. Zoro had not meant to aim a such a stare at him, in fact that sad lonely stare wasn't him pitying the blonde, no not at all, rather it was because Zoro was now thinking of his past.  
Of his own parents.

He shook his head slowly, he shouldn't think of his own past when someone else had just told him theirs. He gazed a little longer at the blonde, seeing the smile upon his face, it was sad but it was a smile of acceptance; that he wasn't going to let it get to him, that he wasn't ashamed of his past; a past that was sad and happy.

"A happy ending to a sad story." Zoro finally uttered, smiling in response to Sanji's smile.  
Sanji chuckled pulling out a cigarette and lighter. He lit the cigarette as he spoke. "You make it sound like a novel."  
"You'd earn a lot of money."  
"I could be a millionaire."  
"Or a billionaire."

They both laughed together.  
"Perhaps one day." Sanji continued, "do you live with anyone?"  
Zoro nodded, continuing to eat the food in front of him. "Yeah, I live with my dad's friend Dracule Mihawk."  
"You don't live with your parents?" Sanji questioned, finding it odd that Zoro lived with his fathers friend. Had Zoro been rebellious and became a runaway? Or perhaps for his studies he moved closer?

"No, he took me in when my parent's passed away." There it was again! The same sad lonely eyes that Sanji had seen earlier.  
"You're adopted as well?"  
"Yeah. I was an indirect killer. I took the lives of my parents…" Zoro had never uttered those words out loud before. He had always been told this by his relatives to the point he'd repeat this sentence over and over in his head. It had become a haunting sentence that never once left his mind. _  
_Sanji's eyes widened upon hearing Zoro's words. _Indirect?_ "Could you explain?" He asked wondering just what Zoro meant by that.

As far as Sanji could tell from those words were, that the death of his parents was eating Zoro away. Zoro had called himself an indirect killer, which was obvious that he was harshly blaming himself for his parents death. To know that Zoro blamed himself pained Sanji as well, he understood that feeling of hating oneself all to well.  
Zoro began to explain what he meant. He wondered if Sanji would be the same as his relatives, would Sanji tell him it was his fault as well? He had never ever told someone his own feelings before nor what his relatives said, he was always afraid they'd all be the same but he felt like Sanji might be different.

"My parents use to travel frequently because of their work, sometimes they wouldn't be back for half a month, sometimes more. They had to travel again a week before my ninth birthday and, like always, I stayed back with Mihawk, but for the first time I didn't want them to go, so I had kicked up a fuss before they left. I didn't want them to go, just once I wanted them to stay and watch me in a kendo tournament." He chuckled darkly at the memory, it pained him to even think about his parents or of any of those happy memories. Especially that one, where it was the last time he got to see them.

"When they phoned to check on me, I asked them once more to come home. I told them, it was all I wanted for my birthday and that if they didn't come, they didn't love me…and that I would hate them forever and because of my selfishness, they ended up trying to get home, and because of me, they died. Some drunk jumped the red light and hit their car, it sent them rolling."

Zoro paused and chuckled. "Lucky bastard lived, where as I lost my parents."  
There was another long silence as Zoro contemplated something.  
"I won the tournament but I lost them and all my relatives blamed me for being so selfish, that if I didn't ask them to come home they'd still be alive. They said that I killed them, that I ruined their lives even from the moment I was born."

Sanji couldn't believe his ears. To hear such words from relatives was horrendous, he himself had always wondered how it would have been if he had had relatives, but if it was like that, he was thankful he didn't.  
"Your relatives are stupid! No matter how hurt they were or grieving they shouldn't blame you. It wasn't your fault!"

"It was my fault. I can't hate my relatives for blaming me, they spoke the truth. I even hate myself for the last words I said to them. If I could go back in time, I'd take it all back, but I can't I can only live with the fact it's real."

"You're not a Psychic! If everyone has to hate someone, it should be that drunk. He shouldn't have been drinking and driving but if you don't want to hate anyone, it was just an accident. I was once told that hatred will destroy you, even if you got revenge, in the end you'd just be destroying yourself."

"Good advice."

"From a good person."

"I can't help but think that…they died thinking I hated them…they were my last words to them. It makes me hate myself it."  
Sanji leaned over the table, carefully dodging their half eaten food. His long pale hands reached out and pinched at Zoro's cheeks; painfully pulling and stretching them.

"Oww!"

"Your parents knew you loved them, they knew you didn't mean those words. So stop thinking like that and don't look so lonely."

He pulled harder at the man's cheeks attempting to rid of the sad and lonely expression the man had on during the entire conversation. "They probably died hating themselves for having to leave you alone in this world, but I bet you everything that they died knowing you love them and that you'll be strong because you're their son!"

Zoro reached his hand up and grabbed Sanji's hand, slowly taking it off of his cheek. He smiled gently, ignoring the throbbing pain in his cheeks.  
"Thank you…"

The two stayed still for a moment, looking between one another in a comfortable silence. Sanji pulled his hand out of Zoro's grasp and coughed lightly.  
"You get it now? So stop hating yourself, idiot!"  
"I will, so thank you. I never knew a stranger could be kinda than a relative."  
"The world can be a very surprising thing."

"Anyway, do you attend a college too?" Sanji asked, trying to change the conversation on to a more happier topic.  
Zoro nodded, "Yeah, it's across from yours." He smirked. "So you'll be seeing a lot more of me I'm afraid." Zoro didn't know if that would be a bad thing or not. He was enjoying hanging out with the blonde and that was the same for Sanji too but neither one was going to say it out loud.  
"What do you study?" Sanji continued to ask.  
"Quite a few subjects, but I plan to major in Sport, Physical Education and Coaching Science."  
"Ah, I thought you'd be the fitness type."  
"Why do you say that?" Zoro asked.

Sanji laughed lightly. "Your physique, plus you did mention you did kendo."  
Zoro looked down at himself to see he was still topless from his shower earlier.  
"Sorry, I forgot. I still do kendo too."  
Sanji chuckled, "I'm not too bad myself. I have a few certificates if you want to see." He spoke proudly, grinning as he pointed to his chest.  
Zoro scoffed, "Really now?" He was eyeing the blonde up and down, hardly believing the blonde was strong at all.

Sanji glared understanding what Zoro was thinking, he stood up and stomped over to a box before grabbing it and throwing it at the other man who, with fast reflexes, caught it. Zoro began to look through the box, taking out the frames one by one.

"Woah! Capoeira. Taekwondo. Tan tui. Savate." Zoro exclaimed in surprise. The blonde really wasn't kidding.  
"Your clothes do nothing for you." Zoro laughed looking at the blonde again.  
Sanji blushed slightly. "It was all for self defence."  
"I'd like to spar with you sometime. See your skills for myself at Mihawks sport centre. Ah, you should come meet him. You should come round to dinner with us. Though, we won't be as great as your cooking."

Sanji shied from the compliment. "Aw, it can't be that bad!" he laughed. He expected to hear Zoro laugh with him, but instead the other man remained stoic for a moment or so.  
Then he cracked smile. "It should be edible…"  
_  
_"Anyway, I should go back to my home now. It's been nice talking to you." As Zoro got up from the floor and walked to door he turned around to look at the following Sanji. "You're not busy at all tomorrow are you?"

Sanji thought about it for a moment. "No I'm not."  
"Great, I'll see you tomorrow."

They waved goodbye to each other as Zoro left and back into his own apartment. Once Zoro was gone, Sanji closed his apartment door and sighed, the room looked even bigger and quieter with his guest now gone. He sighed, bringing his hand to ruffle his blond locks tiredly. He had always been use to a full home. He hated being alone.

But, it made him a little more relieved to have Zoro as a neighbour.


End file.
